


Phantom Faces at the Window

by oilpainter



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Empty Chairs at Empty Tables, F/M, Grief/Mourning, I wrote this years ago, Marius lost all his friends and he's hurting, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Past Character Death, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sad, Trauma, minor blood and violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:27:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22620979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oilpainter/pseuds/oilpainter
Summary: "Marius was reminded of them every day - he saw them in the French flag hanging on a pole outside the Café Musain, in the empty wine bottles left in the corner of inns where Grantaire should have been, in the charm and charisma of young men similar to Courfeyrac, in the philosophical thinking of the University students like Combeferre.Every so often he would catch a glimpse of a head of blonde hair shining in the sunlight out of the corner of his eye, but when he turned around it wasn't Enjolras (because Enjolras was gone and never coming back)."
Relationships: Cosette Fauchelevent/Marius Pontmercy
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15





	Phantom Faces at the Window

**2:46am, mardi le 6 juin 1842, Paris**

In the darkness of the room he shared with his wife Cosette, Marius Pontmercy struggled to breathe.

For the past decade or so, ever since their marriage, he had been trying as hard as possible to not wake his love up after his hellish nightmares filled with blood, gunshots and anguish - his nightmares which were his reality ten years ago. Many nights he would fail and Cosette would comfort him as he cried for his friends who had been killed too young, and on some of those nights he would comfort her as she mourned for the man who was like a father to her. Marius was incredibly thankful for Jean Valjean, the man who had saved his life, and sometimes he mourned with her in the flickering candlelight, wishing that the Revolution had never happened, and wishing he could simply turn back time and tell all his friends not to wave their red, white and blue flags, or to plan a battle they would never win in the ABC Café.

As he thought of his friends again, Marius took in a sharp breath. He was reminded of them every day - he saw them in the French flag hanging on a pole outside the Café Musain, in the empty wine bottles left in the corner of the inns where Grantaire should have been, in the charm and charisma of young men similar to Courfeyrac, in the philosophical thinking of the University students like Combeferre. Every so often he would catch a glimpse of a head of blonde hair shining in the sunlight out of the corner of his eye, but when he turned around it wasn't Enjolras (because Enjolras was gone and never coming back).

And he saw Gavroche every day in the children of the street - most of whom had his wit and skill in order to survive, but none of whom shared his courage (or perhaps stupidity). Gavroche, who had been killed so young, even younger than the student revolutionaries. He was just a _kid_.

Tears filled Marius' eyes but he hastily wiped them away with the back of his hand, knowing that if his wife woke up at 2am for the fifth night in a row, he wouldn't be able to forgive himself. She was so tired at the moment - mostly because of him - but also because she was seven months pregnant, and the baby was keeping her up most of the night with his or her kicking.

To begin with, Marius hadn't wanted a child due to his past, but Cosette had convinced him perhaps a year ago that she would never allow her child to grow up as she had, or to be in the front lines of a revolution as he had. At the discovery of the pregnancy, he had been slightly anxious, but now he had grown to love their unborn baby as much as he loved Cosette (which was more than he had ever believed possible). He knew without any doubts that he would most likely be an over-protective father, but he had his excuses - the war (well, slaughter is a more appropriate word) had made him paranoid, and he would never know how to cope if something terrible happened to his son or daughter - a parent should never bury their child, even though it happened often nowadays.

Marius was still struggling for breath, despite his slightly more comforting thoughts of having a child with his wife. He often had panic attacks after nightmares, particularly the ones where he woke up screaming, and despite the complete darkness of their bedroom, he would see Éponine staring emptily and vacantly up at him, with her blood soaking through her clothes and coating his hands, and his vision would be red as his life fades away through his wound, and his hands would shake violently as he hears the gunshots and the screams-

Cosette stirred, turning over in her sleep, and Marius hastily put a hand over his mouth to stifle his heavy, panicked breathing so as to not wake her up. He couldn't do that to her anymore - he couldn't let her lose her faith in him, and he certainly couldn't let her witness his moments of weakness. He couldn't make her more stressed than she already was due to the pregnancy. And he was doing better now, anyway. After the nightmares, he didn't wake up screaming (well, not usually), and they would cease eventually, or at least be less vivid as his memories faded. His friends may be gone, but there was still hope, and even though it felt like the world had ended after their deaths, life had continued on without them.

As Cosette sighed in her sleep, probably enjoying her dreams in a way Marius was unable to, his breathing slowed down and the tears of grief started to subside. He stared into the darkness of the bedroom again, knowing he would eventually be able to confront his own metaphorical darkness with time. And as he drifted off into a slightly less uneasy sleep than before - with Cosette in his arms, unconsciously giving him support - he thought of his future, and the many possibilities than existed within it.


End file.
